Lone Wolf
by stormyskies73
Summary: AU from Old Oak Doors. Night Vale has fallen and StrexCorp reigns supreme. Many citizens are missing or dead, and most survivors have given up hope. From her tent in the sand wastes, 16 year old Haneet watches the destruction of her city. Determined to take down Strex, she enlists the help of some old friends, but do the Virals and lone wolf Han have what it takes? Viral!Ella.
1. Prologue

**I tried to refrain, but I just had to start posting! I'll be working on my other things too, but this has become my Big Thing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Virals or WTNV. Wish I did, though. Maybe for Christmas... :)**

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><p>The night-time wind blows across the sand wastes of the Nevada desert, but there is no-one to notice it. No-one, that is, bar the young girl huddled in the patched-up tent. She crawls from her fabric shell and resists the urge to look up at the night sky - <em>mostly void, partially stars, <em>she remembers with a soft smile. It is not her phrase, not her memory, but it reminds her of what she's fighting for.

She isn't afraid of the void nor the stars. She fears almost nothing anymore, save the mysterious sunless planet that appears from time to time, a harbinger of doom. She wonders if it will appear now.

She removes her gun from its holster and shoots upwards. Once. Twice. Thrice. Listens carefully. She does not hear any impact, so risks a quick glance upwards. Her bullets travel farther here than they would in the 'real' world. Nothing. If there's anything at all out there, be it humanoid, animal, non-corporeal entity, sentient vegetable or enormous darkened world hanging just above our own, she has likely scared it off. For now, anyway.

She breathes a sigh of relief, violet eyes changing to a rich buttery yellow, and the haze of light surrounding her body shifts to match before both return to purple. She is always on edge, cannot afford to be caught off-guard.

IIt's a good thing there is no-one around to witness her. Her survival depends on her enemy not finding her, and the darkness has afforded her no camoflage since her accident.

She brushes thick dark hair off her unwashed face (it's been a while since she was able to bathe), wishing just for a moment she was normal again, before pushing the thought from her mind. _You are not normal, Han,_ she reminds herself sternly, _you are a Night Valean now, and God forbid you should want to be anything else._

Incoming text.

_Hey! I'm in Vegas! You still live in Nevada? Big place, but how far away is Night Vale? Meet up?_

She almost ignores it, but the sender was, once upon a time, one of her closest friends. They haven't spoken in years, but she's so very alone in her tent in the sand wastes, and so very hungry. She ate all her rations earlier in the week and hasn't had chance to stock up again.

And, although she hates to admit it, she needs allies.

She types out a reply before she can change her mind.

_Bring food and help._


	2. Chapter 1- The Girl in the Sand Wastes

**Hi! I don't know if anyone's reading this, but if you are it's great to meet you!**

**Challenge: over the course of the story, try and guess who the narrator is!**

**Disclaimer: NOT MINE!**

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><p>I'm sure you've all heard of the Virals, dear listeners - the crime-solving wolf-teens from Charleston, South Carolina. Victoria 'Tory' Brennan. Hiram 'Hi' Stolowitski. Benjamin 'Ben' Blue. Shelton Devers. Ella Francis. Cooper, the wolfdog that tied this ragtag band together, making them a pack.<p>

What you perhaps don't know is that, before Tory joined the gang, and long before Ella found her way into their ranks, there was someone else. Someone quite, quite different...

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><p>"I still can't believe this!" Ella laughed as she and Tory began to unpack their cases. "Hi actually won one of those competitions!" One of the major TV networks had been running a contest. All you had to do to win a week-long trip to Vegas for you and four friends was answer a multiple-choice question. Hiram, being Hiram, had been unable to resist.<p>

"That I can understand," Tory replied, "what I don't get is how on earth he persuaded his mom to let him go!"

"Let's just go with it." The conversation continued in this vein for some time, before Shelton burst in, waving his iPhone and trailed by Hi and Ben.

"Han's in trouble!" He yelled!

"Who's Han?" Asked Tory.

The boys shifted awkwardly. "Haneet Dhillon." Hi said. "She was you before you were you."

"Her dad was a security guard at LIRI," Ben continued, "so we saw a lot of her. She had two brothers but they were never really that close with us."

"Han was awesome." Shelton added shakily, "Then when she was eleven her grandpa got sick. The Dhillons upped sticks and moved to Nevada to take care of him."

"Night Something." Hi shrugged. "I forgot where exactly she went."

"Night Vale." supplied Ben. "The city that Google Earth doesn't recognise as existing. Doesn't appear on any maps."

"We lost touch after a while," Hi went on, "but since we're in the same state Shelton figured he should try to find out how far apart we are."

"All she said in reply was this: 'bring food and help.'" Shelton finished.

"Well, Virals," Tory stopped unpacking and began shoving whatever she could find back into the case, "I think our mission is clear."

Ella smiled at being referred to as a Viral. Although she hadn't been around when the others got infected, her blood had mixed with Ben's when one particular adventure had gone bad. She was finally one of them.

"Shelton, text her back and ask for coordinates. Then go repack. We're going to Night Vale."

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><p>Two hours later, the Virals piled into the rental car (provided by the network, Hi remembered smugly. Thank God he hadn't listened when the others had tried to tell him he'd never win anything) with the food Ella and Ben had bought and set out on their quest. They'd never actually been to Night Vale, of course - didn't know a thing about it. They didn't realise quite what awaited them in that shadowy place where reality and nightmares intersected. All they knew was that Haneet needed help, and they were going to help her if it killed them. Which, in Night Vale, was a very real possibility...<p>

Because the Haneet they would find there was not the girl who had left them behind so many years ago.

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><p>"Here we are..." Shelton, the navigator, announced doubtfully at the end of a very long drive as the gang stepped out of the car. Nevada was a big place, and 'Night Vale' and Las Vegas weren't exactly next-door neighbours. <em>'Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area!' <em>proclaimed a newly-erected yet already dented yellow sign (with three bullet holes in it obliterating an emblem of some kind) in glaring orange letters. Someone had crossed out the name of the city in violet spray paint and scrawled _'NIGHT VALE' _in its place, along with a peculiar symbol. The shape was easily recognisable as an eye, but instead of a pupil a stylised crescent moon stared out at the pack impassively.

"Here you are." echoed a solemn voice from behind them.

The speaker was about five foot five with coffee-coloured skin and choppy shoulder-length dark hair framing her lightly-scarred, slightly grimy face. She couldn't have been older than sixteen. She wore a black tank top with torn, faded denim cutoffs stained with dirt and what might have been blood, and there was a gun strapped to her left thigh. She carried a large red and black hiking backpack, and around one arm she wore a black armband with the eye-moon from the sign stitched onto it. Her most striking feature, however, was her eyes. Instead of the soft brown irises the boys had been expecting to see shining in the sockets of their childhood friend, faintly-glowing indigo orbs held their startled gazes. As they watched, a flicker of yellow passed through them before disappearing. "You gonna introduce your friends?"

"Tory, Ella, this is Haneet Dhillon. Han, Victoria Brennan and Ella Francis." Ben replied.

"Hey." Han greeted the other girls, who waved back, slightly shocked. "What are you all staring at?" She demanded, eyes flickering to orange.

"What's up with your eyes?" asked Hiram, ever the tactless one.

"Oh, that," she waved a hand dismissively, "I'd forgotten you'd find that weird. Round these parts it's kinda normal. I got myself a summer job at the radio station a couple years back. I know, I know, being an NVCR intern's dangerous and all, but I loved it! Then I got lost in Radon Canyon. I was pretty much fine - I only absorbed a tiny amount - but the radiation left its mark." She sighed. "Now my eyes change colour with my mood and I glow in the dark. I'm lucky. Most interns die within a couple days on the job." The Virals were still a little stunned. "Oh, come on. Don't tell me you don't have anything freaky to talk about." Her time in Night Vale had had an effect on her world view. Although she could talk about 'normal', she could no longer comprehend the outsider definition of the word.

The Virals looked around at each other, one question on their collective minds. _Should we tell her?_

"Last year the guys and I got infected with a hybrid version of canine parvovirus," Tory began, "and it seriously messed up our DNA. Ella caught it a few months back."

"We're part-wolf now." Ben added.

Ella explained the powers to a remarkably unfazed Han. "When we flare - that's our word for activating our doggy genes - we develop enhanced strength, speed and senses."

"Our eyes glow gold, so you'll be in good company there." The other Virals glared at Hi. Han just laughed.

"Neat!" The glimmer of saffron from earlier returned to her irises. "Now for the important stuff. Did you bring food? I'm starving!"

_Wow, _thought Shelton numbly, _she grew up hot._

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><p>Hi, Ella and Shelton had eaten most of the supplies on the way, but there was still enough for Han not to die of starvation.<p>

"Thank the Glow Cloud for you guys." she said through a mouthful of Pringles. "StrexCorp just stepped up their search for me and half the city's succumbed to the brainwashing, including most of the Sheriff's Secret Police. It's been really hard to get supplies out lately."

"Sooo...what's wrong?" Han seemed to expect Ben and the others to understand, but her world already seemed alien to them.

"Nothing. Just, y'know, _everything._" Her eyes flashed crimson.


	3. Chapter 2- A Trick of the Light

**New chapter!**

**Disclaimer: My name is neither Kathy Reichs, Brendan Reichs, Joseph Fink nor Jeffrey Cranor. Therefore, I don't own anything here except Han and the story.**

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><p>"I should start at the beginning. For...well, for as long as anyone can remember, really, Night Vale and Desert Bluffs - that's the nearest city- have been enemies. Got that?" The Virals nodded. "Desert Bluffs is owned by this huge company, StrexCorp Synernists Incorporated. A few months ago they bought out every business in town."<p>

"So this is all just about some corporate takeover?" Asked Tory. _I thought she was in real danger!_

"Not exactly." Han replied. "You see, Strex isn't like most corporations. Ever been to Desert Bluffs?" Negatives all round."Good, but if you were to visit, you'd see the danger we're all in. Everyone goes around with these...these...these expressions they think are smiles but aren't." She demonstrated as best she could and was met with a chorus of screams, groans and one sob. Coop whimpered and pressed himself into Tory's leg. "Exactly. And they all seem incapable of feeling anything other than this emotion they think is happiness but really isn't. It's hard to explain. But the point is, they've all been brainwashed into becoming chipper, productive worker-drones, in some cases without eyes." She shuddered. "The whole place is basically _dripping in blood_, and the Bluffsmen seem to _like it that way._ It's horrible, and now they've taken Night Vale."

"And no-one's resisting?"

"We tried, Hiram." For a moment, the red fire faded from Haneet's eyes to be replaced by the deep indigo blue of sadness. "The whole city fought back against them, but there were too many. They defeated us easily. That's when things went from bad to really, really bad."

She went on with her tale. "First thing they did was lock up Tamika Flynn and her book club militia. At least, I think they're locked up. No-one's really sure what happened to them. They were the best defence we had, and true heroes. That was what broke our spirit initially. Then they regained control of NVCR. One day I just showed up and I knew something was wrong, I could feel it. Cecil wasn't there and Kevin was and that was that."

"Who are these people?" Ben had never had much patience for people he didn't know.

"Cecil Palmer was - _is_" she corrected herself, "the Voice of Night Vale, although that means nothing to you, of course. It's a job somewhere between 'radio host', 'spokesentity' and 'high priest of the Glow Cloud'. Kevin L'Heureux is basically the Desert Bluffs version."

"But people get replaced all the time." Hi scratched his head,not getting it.

"Being the Voice isn't that kind of a job. It's prophesied. Until the next Voice - the Chosen One, if you like - turns twenty (around which time their successor-to-be is born), the only entities that know they're the Chosen One are Station Management (whatever they actually are), the current Voice, and the next Voice's parents, who are told when the kid turns five. They'd take over at twenty-five. The next Voice would be about our age now, and potentially old enough to replace Cecil in an emergency situation like this one, so logic would dictate that when Kevin took over someone would complain and say that their kid should be the new Voice. But no-one did, so we all just assumed that was it. A new Voice hadn't been prophesied. And the only way that could happen would be if there was to be no more Night Vale." She sighed shakily, gazing at the ground. "After that, most people stopped resisting. Those who refused left as soon as they could, or else tried to play along."

Shelton felt his heart start to sink. "Which camp do your parents fall into?"

"They took Sanjay and moved to Rachel." She shrugged. "Ravi was still at college at the time, so it didn't really affect him."

"And what about you?" Tory asked.

"I quit my job at the station, stole some equipment, bought a gun and set up camp here."

"Here?"

"The sand wastes." She twirled like a little girl pretending to be a ballerina. "This is my kingdom!"

Her bitter laughter died away as the area around them began to steadily increase in brightness.

"Is that you?" asked Ella.

"No!" Han drew her weapon. "I...this hasn't happened since the doors were last opened! It's gotta be Strex!" She turned and fired blindly. It was almost impossible to see, partly because of the brilliant, terrible light and partly because their surroundings were beginning to turn translucent. "Get in the car!" She yelled. "Now! Drive!"

"Where to?" Ben screamed back from behind the wheel.

"Anywhere! I've got everything I need right here!"

"The nearest motel." Tory sounded so much calmer than she felt. "It'll give her a chance to get cleaned up." Together, they sped out of the light.

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><p>The young vigilante relaxed as she felt the warm water from the shower drumming over her skin and hair, watching as it swirled around her feet before draining away, stained with the beige of sand and dust and the rusty colour of dried blood - hers, theirs, it didn't matter anymore. For the first time since the battle, she began to relax.<p>

Then she remembered. The light, so close to her beloved Night Vale. So very close. The Smiling God...

She had to fight.

She had to fight, but she couldn't do it alone.

No.

And soon, dear listeners, she would have to tell the others what she had become.

How she dreaded that moment.

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><p><strong>A note about Kevin: I don't know if his last name was ever mentioned in the show, and I didn't want to make it 'Free' like the voice actor, so I tried to think of an idea of my own and came up with 'L'Heureux'. If you don't like it, you could always mentally change it?<strong>

**A note about the Voice prophecy: my personal headcanon. It's been mentioned that Cecil becoming the Voice was prophesied from the age of 5, but in 'Cassettes' his younger self seems totally unaware. I figured my explanation sort of made sense. **


	4. Chapter 3- Radio StrexCorp

**This chapter guest-stars Kevin and Lauren. Now is the time to run screaming.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Virals, Ten and Hila would be canon by now. If I owned WTNV, Carlos would be home... None of the above has happened yet. I think this says a lot about who owns this stuff.**

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><p>Han would have preferred to wear something else from her bag, but when she stepped out of the shower she saw Ella had helpfully laid out a pale orange sundress she'd had no intention of wearing herself and strappy brown leather sandals for her. <em>Ick. <em>She wouldn't be able to run in the shoes, and the dress looked unsettlingly like something that could be purchased in Desert Bluffs. Still, she put it on - it _was_ comfortable, she had to admit, even if it wasn't exactly her style (what _was_ her style? Did she _have_ a style?) - but chose to go barefoot for convenience.

"What time is it?" she asked, entering the room she'd rented with the other girls for the night and dropping the shoes on the floor.

"Almost seven." replied Shelton.

_It's time. _"Get out."

"What?"

"Get out," she repeated, "there's something I have to do." She began rummaging through her backpack, pulling out items the Virals didn't know the purpose of and that seemed far too large to have fitted in. "Go!"

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><p>Cast out and stuck in the boys' room with nowhere else to go,the five outsiders remained in awkward silence a moment.<p>

"What do we do now?" Tory scratched behind her wolfdog's ears absently.

"There's always the radio." Ben shrugged. It is worth noting, dear listeners, that out of the five he was the only one who actually liked the radio.

_'The sun is pleasantly warm, the moon is just _breathtaking_, and it's a perfect day to be productive! Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area!_' declared a cheery male voice over the airwaves.

"Turn it off!" whined Ella.

"I'm trying!" The device wouldn't shut up. Not even when Hi tried to give it to Coop as a chew toy.

_**'Indeed, Kevin!' **_chirruped a very annoying woman.

_'Listeners, we have a _very _special guest in the studio today! Once again, the one and only Lauren Mallard is taking time out from her _very important _duties at StrexCorp to come and talk to _you!'

_StrexCorp._ That was the organization that Han had warned them about!

_**'It's a pleasure, Kevin! StrexCorp always wants to know how its workers are doing, what they're listening to, and whether their news has any...anomalous opinions!'**_

_'Exactly, Lauren! But I'm afraid we have to start today's broadcast with some distressing news!'_

_'__**Oh, dear!'**_

_'Wanted murderer Haneet Dhillon, whose unproductive hands are stained with the blood of loyal StrexCorp employees, is no longer in the sand wastes-'_

There was a crackling, staticky sound, before a very familiar voice broke through.

**'Of course I'm not! I'm not that stupid! And I'm not a murderer, I'm a vigilante. Do your research.'**

More static, then Lauren was heard again.

_**'..hope they find her soon!'**_

_'They will. At StrexCorp, we find _everything we look for!_'_

**'Is that a threat?'**

It was obvious to the Virals that Kevin and Lauren couldn't hear Han.

_'...in more uplifting news, the Company Picnic is still going strong! Everyone's still there, and having such a great time! They wouldn't want to leave even if they could!'_

_**'That's wonderful, Kevin!'**_

You could practically _hear _the exclamation marks.

The broadcast went on like that for a while, with Kevin talking about productivity and making veiled threats on behalf of Strex against those who didn't do as much work as they apparently should, Lauren chiming in with little asides and blatant propaganda, and Han hacking the signal to broadcast her own side of the story.

_'And now-'_

_**'Ooooh! Is this going to be what I think it is?'**_

_'I think so, Lauren! A word from our sponsors...StrexCorp!'_

**'Yay.' **Han muttered sarcastically.

_'Look around you: Strex.'_

_Look inside you: Strex._

_Go to sleep: Strex._

_Believe in a smiling god._

_StrexCorp. It is everything.'_

Tory felt a cold shiver run down her spine in spite of the hot desert sun, and not even Han's little add-on comments or Hi's pitch-perfect Kevin impression during the 'weather' - which turned out to be a musical interlude rather than any actual forecasting - could dispel it.

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><p><em>'Sadly, that brings us to the end of our show, but don't feel bad! We'll be right here tomorrow-'<em>

**'As will I.'**

_**'...it's been such a pleasure to work with you today, Kevin!'**_

_'You too, Lauren! Until next time, Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area!'_

"Thank God!" Ella sighed.

"Did we have to listen to that crap?" Shelton added.

Ben stamped on the radio - untouched by Cooper - and tried to crush it beneath his shoe.

They trooped back to Han's not-really-a-studio.

"What was all that about?" Demanded Tory. "The murderer thing?"

"You listened to the broadcast." It wasn't a question. It was a statement; flat, lifeless, almost sheepish, accompanied by a shift in her eyes from yellow with a hint of red ringing the pupils to deep, melancholy indigo. Nothing like something that would come out of the mouth of the Haneet Dhillon of earlier in the day, and even less like any sentence uttered by Radio Han.

"Yup."

"Is it true?" Shelton didn't want to believe it. He wanted to imagine it was simply propaganda from the mysterious StrexCorp, that it wasn't anything to take seriously. He couldn't quite manage it.

"In a way." Silence. "Look, like I said, I'm _not_ a murderer. Do you think I want this life? I've only killed five-point-five people, and most of them were already dead inside. I never killed anyone who didn't provoke me first. I don't kill people who don't need killing. _I don't want to be that person._"

"Then what do you want?"

"I want them to fear me." The red colour returned to her irises, forcing the sadness out almost entirely. "I want them to dread meeting me to the extent they get the hell out of Night Vale."

"Well, it sounds like they do."

"They don't, Hiram. They despise me, they're embarrassed by me, they want me gone, but I don't scare them one tiny bit. Everyone in the 'Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area' listens to the radio. Most of them believe the corporation's lies. _They_ might fear me, and they probably hate me, and that means they'll do anything Strex tells them. That's why I can't get back into the city. They'll kill me."

"Is there anything we can do?" Ella placed a sympathetic hand on Han's shoulder. She wasn't sure she could trust her, and her methods were questionable to say the least, but her life was in danger, and she seemed to have a good reason. After all, after enduring an installment of _Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area! _she could understand why her new companion hated Strex so much (especially if, as she suspected, that wasn't even the worst of it).

"I was hoping you'd say that." A glimmer of gold broke through her anger. "Join me."


	5. Chapter 4- Ambition

**Disclaimer: How I wish I owned Virals and WTNV.**

**Disclaimer 2: I apologise profusely for any inaccuracies.**

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><p>"What?" The Virals stared at Han, shocked.<p>

"Join me." she repeated calmly, eyes shining a tranquil aquamarine. "C'mon, I can't do this alone!"

"But you...you..."

"Kill people?" The blue disappeared for a moment, replaced by the ruby-red of irritation. "Shelton, if I could change the world with my voice, don't you think I would? Why do you think I hack into the DBRI signal all the time? Okay, I guess it's partly cos Kevin makes me sick, but mostly because I still hold out some hope that maybe I can undo whatever StrexCorp did to my home without having to use either of my guns." _Either?_, Shelton thought, slightly panicked. He'd only ever seen one: the handgun strapped to her thigh. "Maybe if there's seven of us I won't have to."

"Six teenagers and a dog can't take down a corporation big enough to buy out two whole cities and have its own radio show." Hi countered. "That's crazy."

"Even if five of them have superpowers, the dog is half-feral and the one left over has had a lot of time to work on her aim?"

"Even if."

"That doesn't mean we can't try." Ella said defiantly. "Something is very wrong here and I, personally, feel we should do everything in our power to make it right."

"One entity is not a rebellion. Seven might just be enough to form the basis for one." Han added.

"I'm in." Ben shrugged.

"Me too." Tory agreed. "Han's in danger, and even if we can't save Night Vale we can at least save her."

Hi and Shelton looked at each other, then at the group the former would later nickname the Rebel Alliance, then back to each other.

"I'll do it," Hi sighed, "as long as I never have to listen to The Kevin And Lauren Show again."

"Deal." Han smiled.

"I'm gonna die here." Shelton muttered, miserably. "I'm gonna die in the middle of the Nevada Desert on the outskirts of a town that doesn't officially exist, fighting against an evil organisation that also doesn't officially exist."

"That's the spirit! Nothing really exists anyway."

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><p>And so, listeners, it came to be that Haneet Dhillon joined the Virals - or, more accurately, the Virals joined Haneet Dhillon - to make one last, glorious, stand for her beloved Night Vale. Tory, Hi, Ben, Shelton, Ella, Han and Coop. The Magnificent Seven. Or, alternatively, despicable criminals. It all depended on whether or not they won, really.<p>

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><p>"Hi, did the TV people leave a number?" Tory asked.<p>

"Yeah."

"Well, call and ask if they'll pay for this place rather than the hotel in Vegas." She knew they wouldn't be able to leave Night Vale now they'd committed themselves to Han's cause.

"Ella, Ben, can you go get more food and bullets? I'm running low." Han paused, then added: "Oh, and I'll need purple and white thread and some black material."

"And what am I doing?" Whatever it was, Shelton was certain it would be unpleasant and most likely dangerous.

"Research." Tory decided after a long pause during which she and Han had both realised they didn't have a clue and had therefore mostly just said 'um'.

Han looked around the unimpressive room at her newfound allies. _This is really happening, _she thought, elated, _we're going to take down Strex. Together._

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><p>By the end of the day, they'd acquired more supplies and Han and Ella had fashioned five duplicates of the armband Han wore with pride. Shelton's research had hit a dead end, with the Google home screen being replaced by an image of an orange triangle on a featureless, sterile white background as the message from the radio scrolled across it ominously, shortly followed by his laptop exploding - but hey, you can't have everything. (Han winced at his shouts of anguish before attempting to placate her old friend by informing him that, whilst the StrexCorp thing was definitely new, exploding technology was a typical Night Valean event and really, it was only to be expected when you Google something you shouldn't know about. It didn't help.)<p>

Pretty soon, night fell. The boys trekked back to their own room, and Tory and Ella hit the sack.

Han, however, stayed awake. Ignoring the protests of her brain, telling her it was safer for everyone if she stayed indoors, she made her way outside. The moon and stars hung suspended in the void above her as she sat on the dusty ground, illuminated in her own pool of light, a muddle of yellow, violet and indigo.

She didn't register the presence beside her for a few moments.

"What's with the glowing?" At the sound of her companion's voice, Han had a minor heart attack, cursing herself for letting her guard down. It was only Shelton, though. She could trust Shelton. Probably.

"Bioluminescence." She shrugged. "From the radiation. I'm used to it by now."

"...It's...really pretty..." He replied awkwardly.

"...Thanks..." Han's response wasn't any smoother.

They sat in silence for a few minutes after that - not companionable silence; the kind of silence that falls when neither party is really sure what to say to the other.

"What are you doing up?" Haneet asked, trying to restart the conversation.

"Couldn't sleep." Shelton didn't need to elaborate. She understood. "You?"

"Same." Han sighed. "You see that light over there?" She pointed off into the distance at what looked to be a patch of midday in the blanket of darkness.

"What is it?"

"The Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area." There was no trace of venom in her tone for once, merely sadness. "When Strex took over, the sun just...stopped setting."

"That's not possible." Her friend scoffed.

"Maybe not in Charleston."

"How can the sun stop setting without anywhere else noticing?"

"I don't know. I'd ask Carlos, but he's...missing." Missing. That would make more sense than 'trapped in a bizarre alternate desert dimension' to an outsider, even if the reality of the situation was perfectly simple to a Night Vale resident, even a non-native like Haneet. "Maybe they don't even have a sun anymore. Maybe it's something else."

"Like what?"

"The Smiling God."

"The _what?_" Shelton remembered hearing something about it on the radio, but it didn't make sense in context. It seemed sinister and cult-like, sure, but not something that could cause something like this to happen.

"The Smiling God. It's not as benevolent as it sounds." She sighed heavily, eyes still fixed on the light on the horizon. "Y'know, I've been told my whole life that light is good and darkness is bad, and that the light will always defeat the dark; that's sort of why we have Diwali. But this light, it's not good or wholesome or safe or pure, and it's like everything I've ever known is backwards. For a while I didn't even know what think." The last traces of gold faded from her aura of light, replaced by scarlet. Even that quickly dissipated, along with the deep purple of fear. "Everything's messed up." Only sadness was left, and her voice cracked.

_Okay, Shelton, there's a beautiful girl sat next to you on the verge of tears. Do something, man!, _yelled the voice in the back of his mind. (It is worth noting that the voice in the back of Shelton's mind sounded a lot like Hiram Stolowitski.)

"Umm..." _Yeah. Real cool, bro. _"What would you be doing right now if there was no StrexCorp?" _That could work, I guess. Or maybe it'll just make her cry even harder than if you'd said nothing._

"Well, Cecil's show would have finished by now, and there's nothing on after that, so normally what I do is I stay behind to sort everything out for tomorrow- usually Intern Damien can't be bothered, Intern Maureen has other things to do and any other interns are too dead to be of any use to anyone. When I go in in the mornings I pack a sandwich, so I'd eat that to avoid going home and listening to Sanjay whining." Han had never gotten along with her little brother. "I'd throw part of it down the bottomless pit in the break room on the off-chance Intern Leland's still alive down there and needs food, then go back to the booth, check the mic-" she stopped. "Never mind."

"Go on."

"No!" She blushed. "It's too embarrassing!"

"I won't tell anyone, I swear."

"Okay. You know how little kids decide they're going to be a singer or a vet or a police officer or a hooded figure when they grow up, so they go off and make believe they already are?"

"Yeah..." Shelton wasn't too sure about the 'hooded figure' part, but decided not to think about it too hard.

"I...I do that!" Han pulled her knees up so she was curled into a small glowing ball and concentrated very hard on being made out of void.

"You do what?" Shelton laughed.

Internally, Han swore. Clearly it hadn't worked and she was still made up of meat and blood. Her humiliation was still plain to see. "I knew I shouldn't have told you!"

_Nice work, dumbass, _Shelton said to himself, _now she thinks you think she's an idiot. _"I didn't mean it like that!" He backpedaled frantically. "I just meant..."

"I know what you meant. It's a stupid dream anyway. It'll never happen."

"Han, working in radio isn't a stupid dream. And who says you can't do it? I'd rather listen to you than Kevin or Lauren!"

"I don't just want a job in radio, though, Shelton; that's the problem." she said miserably. "I've never actually told anyone this before, but...I want to be the Voice of Night Vale. Now shut up and leave me alone!"

"You _are_ the Voice of Night Vale."

"_What?_" Han turned to stare at Shelton, who hadn't shut up or left her alone. "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard. Next thing I know you'll be telling me mountains are a thing!"

"They are."

"See? You've lost it!" _Huh?_

"What I mean is, without Cecil the city's stuck with those two creeps, right?"

"Right."

"Well, you said that's part of the reason why people started giving up. They had no alternative but to be silent. They get their opinions from StrexCorp, period."

"This makes me feel so much better."

"Just listen. Strex tried to take control of the whole city, but you fought back, Haneet. You started disrupting their broadcasts, trying to let people know StrexCorp wasn't their only option. You actually _care_ about Night Vale, and that's more than can be said for Kevin."

"So you're saying-"

"Even if you're not supposed to be the Voice, you're the closest thing they have."

Han smiled a little at that. "You know what? You might just be right."

"And like I said, you're better than Lauren or Kevin."

"Anyone is better than Kevin, and Lauren's not even a professional! She's completely irrelevant!" An idea struck her. "Shelton?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna help do a radio show?" The air around her shimmered from indigo to buttercup yellow and the occasional mist of purple.

"_You_...want _me..._to-"

"Sure." She continued. "There's something I've noticed about DBRI. _Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area!_ broadcasts from our station rather than the one in Desert Bluffs, but it doesn't use the same frequency. Everything else works, _except_ that show. Then all you hear is static."

"So..."

"_So, _maybe whatever phenomenon is causing this can be overridden somehow, and everyone knows the old frequency. I have equipment of a sort, and everything else I'd need is on my phone..."

"Then we're in business."

* * *

><p>Diego had never seen the Dhillon girl as a threat, more like an inconvenience. Flynn and her little militia had been a threat. Palmer very nearly became a threat. But Dhillon? Just a little girl meddling in affairs she didn't understand. No, not a threat.<p>

Flynn had only been classified as a threat because of the bookish army she commanded. Dhillon had nothing of the sort.

Until now.

He didn't have the names of her little friends yet.

But he would.

Dhillon's perseverance and bravery were admirable, but she could not outrun a Smiling God.


	6. Chapter 5- Not Bad For a First Attempt

**Merry Christmas!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Virals. Nor do I own WTNV. All I own is a cardigan my mum thinks resembles tentacles. So yeah.**

* * *

><p><em>'Hey, Night Vale! Do you miss the good old days of community radio? Back when the traffic reports made no sense? When we didn't have a clue what was going on in the area but knew about our host's personal life in minute detail? When the most-overused word was 'void' and not 'StrexCorp'? When our community calendar was less 'work' and more 'rescheduled'? When we hailed a very real Glow Cloud instead of a possibly imaginary Smiling God? When you didn't feel like you were trapped inside that song from the LEGO movie? Yeah, me too. Tune into NVCR tomorrow at seven if you want to hear about things that actually matter. See you there!'<em>

Han grimaced as soon as she finished saying it. It sounded crap, but it had been broadcast now; there wasn't a lot she could do about it. She'd patched herself in during a particularly propaganda-heavy segment of _Welcome to the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area! _(she still couldn't work out how anyone could possibly find that catchy), but there was no guarantee anyone would really listen. (To be honest, she thought denouncing the Smiling God might have been a mistake - there was definitely _something_ malevolent lurking in the eternal daylight of the desert dimension - but then again, she knew it would rile StrexCorp, and that could only be a good thing. Unless they tried to kill her over it.)

* * *

><p>"So now what?" asked Ben, leaning against the doorframe.<p>

"I don't really know." Han admitted. "I guess I'll just wait and see."

"You need help?"

"I don't know that either."

"No offense, Han," Hi began, "but have you not learnt anything at all from your job?"

"My job mainly consisted of making coffee, listening to pointless trivia about Carlos the Scientist - whose favourite colour is apparently carmine - and trying not to die!" she shot back. "Forgive me for not knowing a few insignificant little details!"

"Should I go get coffee?" Tory offered, trying to stop her from actually ripping her packmate's head off. She wasn't feeling too peaceful herself, given that they'd pretty much not left the premises in at least 24 hours. Being cooped up with the same five people was trying everyone's patience.

"Please."

* * *

><p>"Why exactly are we here?" Tory and Ben stood outside the girls' room the following day with Cooper and a rifle produced from Han's seemingly bottomless backpack.<p>

"I don't trust these Strex people and neither does she." the redhead replied. "There's a strong chance, given everything they've said about her and everything she's doing, that someone will come after her. She's pack now. I think we should look out for her."

Ben sighed. _She's gotten way too into this revolutionary thing, _he thought.

* * *

><p>Whilst the two more intimidating Virals (despite Han's protestations) waited for a threat that might never come, and Shelton waited for Han to indicate whether she needed anything, Hi and Ella waited in the boys' room for something interesting to happen.<p>

"We're alone..."

"No chance, Stolowitski." Ella fiddled with the small radio that neither could remember seeing five minutes previously until she found what she was looking for. "This is neither the time nor the place.

_'The Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area is a lie. Welcome to Night Vale.'_

* * *

><p><em>'Listeners - if there <em>is _anyone listening - I need you to think about StrexCorp. If you have managed to escape the brainwashing, then don't just hide away. Stand up and be counted. And those who are already lost - if any of you are receiving this emergency broadcast - I need you to think long and hard about your life choices. _

_You now work for an organisation that decorates with animal viscera, and okay, our old City Council wasn't all that polite, but it was _never _this bad. And have you forgotten that it was their StrexPet that attacked our station pet, Khoshekh? He only wanted to protect his owner.' _This was the difficult part. _'Have you forgotten that Strex is responsible for the capture,detainment, and Glow-Cloud-knows-what-else of a group of children and teenagers trying to defend their home? And have we forgotten that it is, technically, StrexCorp's fault that Carlos is, as far as I know, still trapped in the desert otherworld?' _Breathe in. Breathe out. _'Listeners, they are the reason that I am talking to you today. You might not recognise my voice; some of you will have registered that I am _not _Cecil Gershwin Palmer, others that I am not Kevin from Desert Bluffs - who still suck, by the way - and a few of you may have guessed that I'm probably not broadcasting from the radio station given that Kevin is there. All of you are right.'_

Shelton couldn't recall seeing Han as calm as she now was. Her surroundings were hardly ideal, and her equipment looked like it had seen better days, but she looked at home as she poured her heart out into the void. When she'd simply been patching herself through over corporate propaganda she'd been angry, mocking. Now, though, she was nothing even remotely close to that.  
>Of course, she was thinking about what to say, given she was working without a script, but she never tripped over her words like he would, never hesitated for more than a heartbeat. Every breath was measured, even if she was a little choked up and not quite as professional as he knew she would have liked.<br>If he allowed himself to lose focus the words almost disappeared entirely until it was just Han and her voice, but somehow they still penetrated his mind. And in her voice he heard echoes of something he couldn't quite place. This was _exactly_ where she belonged_._

_'My name is Haneet Dhillon, Han for short, and I am speaking to you from a top-secret location. I am sixteen years old and before Strex took over I worked for NVCR. Now I...I don't want to talk about what I do now. Let's just say it doesn't pay too well and isn't as fun. It's not what I wanted to do, but this is, so I am doing it now.' _Don't ramble. _'My friend Shelton says that, with Cecil wherever the hell he is and my constant interrupting of Kevin's pathetic attempts to convince us that StrexCorp Is Everything, _I _am now the Voice of Night Vale, but I'm not quite sure I believe him just yet. Listeners, do not think of me as the Voice of Night Vale, because I'm not. Cecil is, and since we have no proof that he is dead we should assume he is alive and, by rights, still holding the title. But since he is not actually _here, _our city has, in a way, had her vocal chords ripped out. I am not the Voice. I am...I am esophageal speech, but I guess it will have to do.'_

She looked over at Shelton. He nodded. It didn't flow so well, but it was probably an accurate metaphor.

_'In other news, I have an update on Telly the barber. Remember him?' _Her companion did a double-take. How was that relevant? _'For those of you new to the area, or who have forgotten, he was last seen wandering the sand wastes giving free haircuts to cacti and howling up at the void, sentenced to eternal mental torment as punishment for cutting _Carlos's _hair. Personally, I didn't think it looked that bad, but given Cecil's mood at the time I didn't want to be the one to argue with his decision to incite mob violence lest I be thrown to Station Management.' _Since when had Haneet Dhillon used words like 'lest'? _'Listeners, Telly is _no longer _giving cacti free haircuts. The rate is now $63, which we can all agree is ridiculously expensive and pretty much completely random, and when his clients don't pay up (I mean, they are mostly non-sentient cacti, after all) he starts yelling at them._ _During my stay out there I found myself with split ends, and you know how it is, I was desperate, he was available, we were both out wandering the sand wastes...things just went from there. Now I have the worst haircut in history - insanity tends to throw off your game - and almost no money. And I hadn't had enough to start with, so now I owe him $18 and I think he wants to kill me over it. For some reason, everyone wants to kill me this week.'_

Perhaps it would be easier for Shelton not to listen.

_'Back to our main story. StrexCorp _is not what you think! _It doesn't serve your interests, just the morons running it and possibly the Smiling God. When the light entered our dimension from the desert otherworld it wasn't as wonderful as stupid Kevin made it out to be. It was the beginning of the apocalypse, according to John Peters - you know, the farmer? - and that is _not good! _And, honestly, do you really want a free pig's lung free with whatever purchase you make?'_

* * *

><p>Han carried on like that for a while, alternating between pointless bulletins and the dire warning, before announcing the weather and playing 'Sing' by My Chemical Romance off her phone. Shelton opened his mouth to speak, but she shushed him, mouthing <em>I'm on air. <em>Of course. Everything she was doing was being broadcast live.

_You're doing great, _he mouthed back.

They kept up their silent conversation as best they could for the rest of the song.

* * *

><p><em>Listeners, Night Vale has been around since...a really long time ago, even though time isn't really a thing. And in all that metaphorical time we have always stood up for what we believed, except if that belief was in something dumb like mountains, or if it would result in re-education. But here we are, facing an evil worse than any of the forces that previously controlled our home, and I know as a non-native I have no right to say what I'm about to say, but I have to say it - <em>No-one is doing anything about it. _Collectively, we are losing what it means to be Night Valeans. I've seen the same faces almost every day for the past five years of my life and I honestly don't recognise most of the people behind them anymore. I'm sorry, but it's true. If you're content with this state of affairs then go ahead and move to Desert Bluffs. Stay tuned next for complete silence and a hope for a slightly-less-terrible future. Good night, Night Vale. Good night.' _She flicked a switch, before storming out the door.

* * *

><p>Talking about it had made her realise just how awful the situation was, and she'd had to get out. She didn't think about where she was going, only the steady pounding of her feet on the ground and the heat of the blazing sun. Eventually she looked around with scarlet eyes to find herself in the vast expanse of desert.<p>

She fired at the nearest cactus multiple times, cursing the people that had done this.

_Look on the bright side, Han,_ she told herself in an attempt to calm down after realising that cactus-plugging wasn't working, _you've done your first real broadcast!_ She turned to head back, hoping she'd know the way.

Then the pain hit her. It felt like her head was splitting apart, and she collapsed to the ground clutching it. Unbidden, images flashed before her now-violet eyes. She closed them up tightly...and it stopped. Cautiously, she opened them again. It didn't come back. _Well, that was weird._

* * *

><p><strong>A note about Han's radio voice: I tried to make her on-air personality seem a little more casual than Cecil, given she's only 16, but at the same time kind of similar, partly because that was her intention and partly for another reason altogether...and that reason has to do with her mysterious migraine...<strong>


	7. Chapter 6- Big Brother

**I'm back!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Virals or WTNV. I do, however, now own two Night Vale shirts and some Girl Scout patches. And of course there is the tentacardi. ALL HAIL THE TENTACARDI!**

* * *

><p><em>What was that?<em>, Han asked herself as she slowly stood up, running a hand across her forehead. No migraine could be that painful; there must have been physical damage - but there wasn't. No cuts. No blood. No bone. No brain matter. Nothing to indicate anything had ever happened to her.

Her first thought was to report the Incident to the Sheriff's Secret Police, as was the protocol with such things. That, however, was off-limits now, thanks to StrexCorp.

Her second thought was to ask Carlos. As a scientist, it was likely he'd be able to figure it out. That was _also_ no longer an option, for obvious reasons (and even if it had been, she had her reservations - if this...whatever-it-was...had never happened to anyone else before there was a strong probability she'd go from being 'that girl who works for his boyfriend' to 'interesting lab specimen', and quite frankly _neither_ was how she wanted to be remembered. Both simultaneously would be a nightmare.)

Plan C was to tell the Virals, but if she did there was a good chance she'd be forcibly sidelined. _No way._ This was _her_ battle and she was going to fight it whether they - or even she herself - liked it or not. In a perfect world she'd be content to report rather than participate, but this was not a perfect world. It was imperfect in the worst possible way, and she wouldn't be able to take not being involved.

That left one final course of action - tell no-one and hope it cleared itself up. It wasn't a particularly _good _course of action, dear listeners, but she couldn't think of a better one.

She began to walk back.

* * *

><p>"I've just realised," Hi began back at the motel, "this doesn't make sense."<p>

"What doesn't?" Ella replied, throwing down the notepad she'd been scribbling in. She'd started out by trying to get a script together for Han in case she'd been uncomfortable winging it, but realised that, without any knowledge of Night Vale beyond what she'd been told, she couldn't do it. She'd wound up absently doodling. Herself. Her friends. Landmarks she had seen. Landmarks she couldn't remember seeing because she had yet to pass them. People she had yet to meet. Mysterious symbols connected with long-forgotten rituals for purposes best left unremembered. Void. Stars. She tried not to think about it too hard.

"Han. I'm as happy to see her again as the next guy, but I've been thinking, and it doesn't add up."

"How so?" Tory asked, petting Coop in a state of absolute boredom.

"Well, the eleven-year-old Haneet thought TV had made the radio redundant. Sixteen-year-old Haneet works - or worked - at NVCR."

"So?" Shelton retorted. "Maybe she just changed her mind. She has a gift, anyway."

"Also, she said she got the job a couple years back. That makes her 14, and, under state law, not legally old enough to work, so how did she do it?"

Ben shrugged.

"That _is _fishy," Tory admitted, "but we promised we'd help her. If you're having second thoughts, Hiram-"l

"I just think we should be careful, is all."

* * *

><p>"Haneet!"<p>

_Keep walking, Han. He doesn't know it's you. He's guessing, or mixed you up with a different Haneet._

"Hanny!" _Nope. It's me. And that means it can only be one person calling me._

"I told you to quit calling me that, Ravi!" She turned to smile at her older brother. She wasn't sure where he'd come from, exactly, but there he was, stood a short distance away from her.

"I know." He shrugged, grinning back.

"So why-" she broke off as she took in his expression. _"No. Nonononono."_

"What's up?"

"You...you're...one of _them_?"

"One of who?"

"_Them._ StrexCorp. How could you?"

"It's fine, Han, really!"

"Stop smiling like that!" She began to back away as he strode towards her.

"Just calm down. Let me explain."

Han scowled, but decided she may as well listen to what her traitor of a brother had to say. At the very least it would make a good story for a future broadcast.

"I'd just graduated college, and this guy approached me. He offered me a job, just like that. He'd never even met me, didn't know anything about me, just asked if I needed work. I'd be paid, I'd have accommodation, I'd be close to home. I asked how he knew where I lived, and the guy just smiled and handed me a card with an address written on the back."

"And that didn't seem sinister?"

"A little, but I was curious. I changed my route so I'd end up at the new destination rather than the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area - although I still thought it was called Night Vale at the time. I realised it was StrexCorp when I arrived, but all I knew about them was the paranoid ramblings you and our parents picked up from the radio. Logically, there was a chance you were all mistaken - I mean, a man who claims to have visited a country called 'Luftnarp' is hardly a reliable source of information-"

"You can't speak ill of the Voice!" Han broke in, scandalised. "It's an offence punishable by reeducation...or...at least it _was._"

Ravi Dhillon ignored her. "-so I figured it couldn't hurt. They told me they'd had their eye on me for a while, that I could be an asset to their organisation. They showed me things, Haneet. Things that had been. Things that were being. Things that were yet to be. And it was _wonderful_!"

"Do Mom and Dad know about this?"

"No. Do they know about _your_ new career as a serial killer?"

"No. And besides, I am _not_ a serial killer," she explained for what felt like the millionth time, "I am a teenage girl who has taken it upon herself to drive the parasitic corporatists out of her city by any means necessary."

"Including murder."

"It's not murder. In war, when someone gets shot or blown up, do they call it murder?"

"This isn't a war," her brother replied calmly, "and I know you don't want it to be one."

"How do you know what I _want_?" Her voice was acid.

"I listened to your little broadcast."

"What?" She'd meant it more as a reaction to the word 'little'. That fact, however, got lost in translation.

"Of course I listened to it. You're my baby sister." That simple misinterpretation, somewhat unfortunately, made the situation so much worse.

"_'Baby sister.' _That's all I am, isn't it? Ravi Dhillon's _baby sister_. Whenever we see our relatives, it's always Ravi the smart one, Sanjay the cute one, and Haneet the middle child. You know, I have lived my _whole life_ trying to be more like you. _You_ wanted to study math, so I learned the cosine rule by heart. _You_ were the logical one, so I tried to rewire my brain. _You_ loved modernity, so I turned my back on everything that wasn't totally cutting-edge. I wanted people to notice _me_, and all that ever happened was that I cast myself further into _your_ shadow. And the worst part is,I couldn't even get _that_ right! I've always secretly kind of hated math! I've always loved speculating on the impossible! And I loved my job at NCR, even though I never really applied for it and have yet to be paid after two years. No-one has _ever_ believed in me! Our parents overlook me. You haven't had time for me since I was eight years old. Sanjay thinks I'm an idiot. Cecil only ever saw me as the unpaid coffee girl and never as anyone with any potential. Tamika wouldn't let me join her militia cos I don't read. StrexCorp doesn't take me seriously." Her eyes shifted from scarlet to indigo. "I-"

"You're wrong, Haneet. I believe in you. So does StrexCorp. You _do _have potential."

"Don't lie to me."

"I'm not."

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying, we _care._ And you, Hanny, have a talent."

"For shooting?"

"For radio work. We at StrexCorp will nurture this ability, make you as good as - no, _better than_ - Palmer ever was. We know you walked out of DBRI, and we understand you were upset, but we're prepared to forgive you for anything you might have done since, and we are prepared to give you a job. A real job, with payment and security and tasks that don't just involve coffee or fanfiction." Ravi smiled even wider - if that were possible - and laid a hand on his sister's shoulder. "And, even better, you have a chance - no, better than that, a _certainty _- of promotion. You, Haneet, will someday take over from our Kevin."

"You mean-"

"You, dear sister, will become the Voice of the Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area."

The only ambition she'd ever had of her own...at the cost of everything she'd ever truly believed in.

* * *

><p>"You know what I think is weird?" Ben added suddenly. "Prophecies usually entail the Chosen One being in that role for the rest of their lives, but Han's Voice prophecy seems more like a kind of conveyor belt. It's too structured."<p>

Hi nodded. Now that the initial excitement from recruitment had almost dissipated, he was starting to wonder how the hell this had ever seemed like a good idea.

"Maybe it's not a real prophecy, just a really inefficient method of choosing a job applicant." Tory suggested. "It's not a reason to back out of an agreement."

"Maybe, but why would she think it _was_ a prophecy?" Hi asked. "I'm sorry, but I think Han's gone loco."

"You're telling me nothing she's told us is real?" Ella was sure it wasn't true. She didn't know Haneet as well as the others, but she'd felt like her new-found ally had been telling the truth. And anyway, she herself was part-wolf - she saw no reason to suspect the extreme weirdness Han sometimes came out with couldn't be real.

"Pretty much. She needs help."

"I don't believe it."

"I'm with Ella. How do you explain the light we saw on the first day?" Tory challenged.

"Solar flare?" Hi volunteered lamely, knowing it didn't sound right.

"And you guys didn't see the night sky over Night Vale." Shelton moved to sit with the girls. "The sun doesn't seem to set any more there, and according to Han it's because of StrexCorp. Explain that."

"Maybe there's just a lot of streetlights there."

"Ben, the sky was _blue._"

"I guess we'll just have to ask her when she gets back." Tory said decisively, putting an end to the discussion.

* * *

><p>For a moment, Han stood still and silent. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet. "I will not become the mouthpiece of a Smiling God."<p>

"What?"

"I said," she repeated, louder, "I will not become the mouthpiece of a Smiling God! I would rip my own vocal chords out before I let that happen!"

"We could reconstruct them." It didn't feel so much like an offer any more. It felt like a threat.

"Don't bother."

"The Greater Desert Bluffs Metropolitan Area needs you to stop fighting. It's sending out all the wrong messages and disrupting productivity."

"I'm sorry, but I think you mispronounced 'Night Vale'. There's a lot of that going round right now."

"You can't stay living in the past forever."

"Who says?"

"Everyone that matters. It's over. You're alone in this. Your friends don't understand you anymore. They don't understand _this_. Palmer and Flynn are both dead."

"You're lying." Han's voice was controlled, almost entirely steady, but her eyes gave her away. She wasn't calm. Not by a long shot.

"I'm not."

"You are," she insisted, "because killing them would be illogical. Tamika was the embodiment of civic pride. Cecil was, essentially, the embodiment of our city. Killing them...you'd risk creating martyrs. Not everyone's given in, and your precious StrexCorp wouldn't want to give them a reason to mobilize."

Ravi stared at his sister for a short whole, then clapped slowly. "You're smart," he said, and then: "too smart."

"I don't know who you think you are," Han retrieved her gun from its holster, "but you are _not_ my brother. Not anymore." The flames in her eyes began to die away, leaving coal-black emptiness where they had once been.

"You wouldn't."

"You have five seconds to leave, or I _will_." She aimed her weapon with shaking hands.

"You're making a mistake."

"Four."

"We gave you a chance."

"Three."

"StrexCorp is looking for you."

"Two."

"They _will_ find you."

"One."

"Why wouldn't you listen, baby sister?" Ravi walked off into the desert, and Han was left with a feeling she hadn't felt before. She wasn't angry anymore, but the feeling she had now couldn't be called _calm_. It was too empty, too echoing, for that. Instead she just felt..._void._

Gradually, however, the sensation of blankness passed, to be replaced by another she knew very well but had, for the most part, been able to suppress since her voluntary exile.

Fear.

StrexCorp would be searching for her, she was certain, and she wasn't scared of them. But she wasn't alone, whatever they tried to tell her. Not anymore. She had allies now, allies who didn't fully understand her world. Allies who were in danger now, because of her.

Yes, she was afraid, but not for herself. She was afraid for _them._

* * *

><p>"Han," Hi began as she slammed into the room, "we need to talk-"<p>

"No time!" Han cut him off, cramming whatever she could into her backpack. "My brother's with Strex now. They'll find me, and that means they'll find you guys. We have to get out of here."

"Han, listen. We...we think it's all in your head."

"No, we don't." Ella retorted. "When do we leave?"

"As soon as humanly possible." Han grimaced, realizing the insensitivity of the statement. "I mean, Viral-ly possible," she corrected.

"Nothing you've said makes any sense!" Ben said insistently.

"Welcome to Night Vale, Ben. Nothing makes sense!"

"We're not leaving." Hiram folded his arms and tried to look intimidating. (Note I said _tried_, listeners, not _succeeded.)_

"Do you _want _to die?" Han glared, eyes flashing crimson again.

"No, but we can't spend the rest of our lives running around the country based on your paranoid delusions!"

"I'm not delusional! You're the delusional one! You probably believe in _mountains!"_

"See, guys?"

"Maybe we _should _stay put," Tory suggested after a moment's deliberation. "At least for now. We fly back to Charleston the day after tomorrow, right? We'll find some way to get Han back with us, and we'll get help."

"You believe me?" Han and Hi chorused.

"Han, yes; Hi, no."

* * *

><p><strong>A note about the discrepancies: All will be revealed later. If it is not, it has probably been censored by the City Council, the Sheriff's Secret Police, any number of vague yet menacing government agencies, the Illuminati...you get the idea. All that can be explained will be explained. All that cannot be explained must be forgotten immediately. Please report to the Sheriff's Secret Police for re-education.<strong>


End file.
